


Eight Ball

by Rothelena



Series: Lost Bets Series [4]
Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 00:16:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rothelena/pseuds/Rothelena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lisbon loses a bet, and has to let Jane teach her playing pool... the question is, will she learn how to play or will they get seriously distracted?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight Ball

She had to stop watching him like a teenage groupie with a crush the size of Mount Everest, preferably soon.

But the truth was, he hadn’t been around much lately, and she felt almost starved for looking at him, letting her eyes wander over his beloved shape wherever he went.

He had pulled back after Las Vegas and especially so after Loralei’s confession about their night together- it still stung, dammit, although she would never, ever admit it to anyone. It had hurt, she had spent many nights sobbing into her pillow, especially since he more or less refused to talk to her.

When he looked at her, she could see something strange in his eyes, like a deep concern that he could reveal too much, could say things that needed to be kept inside. After all those years working close to him, secretly craving his attention in much more intimate ways, loving him with a fierce passion that scared her sometimes, she had become very perceptive for Patrick Jane’s every mood.

But whenever she tried to get closer, he looked away.

She sighed and continued to stare at him like a love-struck schoolgirl… well, at least it felt that way. He walked slowly, confidently through the gloomy halls of the spacious, slightly shady pub they were investigating, stepping over their scantily clad female murder victim without even looking, ignoring the angry shout of the coroner.

Patrick Jane was in top form, and Lisbon didn’t doubt his mind was already working overtime to catch the killer.

“Oh, Lisbon, look,” he exclaimed so loudly she startled a bit, “a pool table!!! Care to play with me? Just once, come on!”

“Certainly not, Jane,” she groaned, trying to suppress the images his “play with me” evoked in her, “we investigate a murder here, someone’s dead. Show some respect.”

He looked at her as if she were a petulant, obnoxious child and he her loving, only slightly annoyed father.

“Because that’s what I’m normally doing?” he asked incredulously, “Oh, Lisbon, our victim is through with people’s tedious business once and for all, so she doesn’t care if we play some billiards.”

“No.” She said firmly, walking closer to him so nobody could overhear their conversation. “And by the way- I never played before, and am certainly not gonna make a fool out of myself by allowing you to give me instructions in front of everyone.”

“What?” he asked with a blinding smile, “You’re a cop, Lisbon. Are you trying to tell me you never played pool before?”

She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Yep, that’s what I’m trying to say. I avoid being a walking cliché just to provide amusement for my consultant, and I’ve done pretty well so far, if I might say so.”

He chuckled softly and came even closer. She saw the by now familiar look of fear in his eyes, only a hint, as if he knew he should stop and simply couldn’t, it was gone in the duration of some heartbeats. Her own heart was hammering against her ribcage, she just hoped her poker face was working.

“What if we meet after work,” he whispered, his eyes wandering over her lips which suddenly felt dry and cracked. She licked over them and saw his pupils dilate. “I know a place where we can… play all we want without anybody watching. Or listening.”

She swallowed.

“Forget it,” she said much more passionate than she had intended, “I see far too much of you while I’m working- I don’t need to have you around in my spare time, thank you very much.”

His smile told her how easily he unmasked her lie.

And damn- it was a lie of almost biblical proportions. But nobody could ever know how much she was craving him, his smile, his attention, his touch… not that he had touched her since that night in the Nevada desert. Not at all. He had avoided her like the plague, hiding in his dark, cold attic as if he was afraid she would taint him.

She felt herself pouting slightly and had to force herself to attain a more neutral expression.

Jane’s eyes looked bottomless, so deep she could have drowned in them.

“Let’s make a bet,” he whispered, “if I can correctly guess the color of your underwear, you let me teach you how to play pool tonight. I f I can’t, I’ll be the consultant of your dreams next week.”

She almost groaned. Well, since being the consultant of her dreams involved him shooting his load all over…

She stopped the thought when she saw him smiling knowingly.

She knew to never, never bet with Patrick Jane. Cho knew it, van Pelt knew it, and Rigsby was slowly getting there, too.

There was absolutely nothing Jane couldn’t do, and if he wanted to win a bet, he won.

She had no doubt he wanted to win this one.

But part of her simply wanted to prolong the contact, stay with him a little while, give herself the chance to stare at him some more, bathe in her memories of a connection, a trust that seemed to be lost since Las Vegas. She felt like a hurt little child all of a sudden, so much so that she hugged herself to grant her some warmth.

Jane averted his gaze. Of course, what else- it was what he always did these days.

And by the way, how could he guess the color of her underwear? He hadn’t been around all day, dammit!

“Deal!” she said before she could stop herself, and watched him forcing a smile on his face.

“Okay,” he said, tapping his lower lip with his index finger, “let me guess, your underwear is… red.”

“What????” she asked, shocked.

He chuckled.

“Well, it’s Friday, the weekend draws near, so I guess this ‘nobody wants to get personal with little Teresa’-thought raised his ugly head this morning. So you would go for something racy, a little bit sexier than usual. Black? You wear black every day, so that’s out. Champagne? Meh, too clean, not really raunchy. Normally, you would go for emerald green, because it looks stunning with your eyes, but today, you wear a blue blouse- with red buttons. Blue blouse, red buttons, green bra? That’s not classy, and hey, Teresa Lisbon is all about classy. So- this little buttons here scream that little Teresa’s panties are as red as they are. And I would like to see if I’m right. Ladies’ room?”

“In your dreams.” Or hers. She snorted, worrying her lower lip. “When and where?”

“You now the pub one block from headquarters,” he said, “the one with the crossed Union Jacks over the front door? It’s closed for renovations this week. Meet me there at nine o’clock. Gives you enough time to do as much paperwork as your heart desires.”

She didn’t even ask how he planned to get into a closed pub, but simply watched him walk away, only stopping briefly to shout cheerfully to one of the suspects.

“Mr. Carson, you still have blood on your sleeve- Meh, I’m just kidding, but you looked mighty guilty there. Some problems with your about… fifteen years younger lover, huh? I always say, too many years of age difference… Rigsby, would you arrest him, please? The murder weapon should be behind that door, our Mr. Carson can’t stop looking at it- and since it was undoubtedly a crime of passion, I bet he didn’t take the time to wipe off his fingerprints- did you, Mr. Carson? Ahhhh, thought so.”

And just like that, Patrick Jane vanished into thin air, leaving his colleagues to deal with the mess.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The pub was dark and had an uninhabited feel to it, but the pool table was a gem, the dark green felt almost glowing in the low light of the stylish golden lamps.

Patrick Jane let his fingers slide over the smooth, polished wood.

He shouldn’t be here. But six weeks with an almost permanent hard-on and dreams that slowly brought him to the brink of his sanity didn’t leave him a choice. He had tried not to touch her, had avoided her as good as he could. He needed to stop her from being seen, noticed by his nemesis.

But his mission had been a failure from the start, for Red John had already seen her, and Jane had become so cold and lonely and bitter without his knightress in shining armor that life hadn’t been worth the trouble lately. Even cracking Loralei’s shell hadn’t made him feel better, and every night, his sweaty dreams belonged to his dark-haired, petite superior, spread out beneath him, willingly accepting his thrusts. He groaned.

Yes, he was hard, what a surprise.

With a sigh, he slid his jacket from his shoulders and folded it over the next chair, lazily stroking his erection through the fabric of his pants.

What if she wasn’t ready to help him get rid of it? Meh, what a question. She had always been willing to help him.

He smiled with tender affection. His little angel. He couldn’t wait to see her, be alone with her.

As if on cue, the front door clapped, and seconds later she appeared in the doorway, gun in hand. She put it away when she saw him, slipping her arms out of the holster, throwing it onto the table in front of her. 

“So,” she said, “how did you manage to get in here?”

“The owner is a friend,” Jane answered, “he was pretty eager to help me get… to help me out.”

She smiled, and he was surprised to see a firm resolve in her eyes, a sexy readiness he hadn’t expected. Maybe this wouldn’t be a difficult operation at all.

She took one of the queues from the wall, eying it suspiciously.

“Okay,” she said, “show me how to play.”

Hmmm, her voice made him even harder, which wasn’t a nice feeling.  
Did he even attempt playing the gentleman, or should he just let the horny beast out to join in on the fun?

His aching cock made the decision for him.

He sauntered over, not trying to hide the tent in his pants at all, his smile deepening when he saw her eyes going wide. Yes, sweetheart, look your fill, it’s going to be… a little crowded inside you tonight.

He chose one of the queues and walked back to the small end of the table, lovingly caressing the wood with his fingers, secretly fantasizing about her fingers caressing HIS wood… focus, Jane, no need to do this all caveman style.

He leaned over the table, putting the queue between his splayed fingers, making a show of moving his buttocks in an enticing way. Her nervous fidgeting told him he did pretty well.

He performed a perfect exercise shot before he turned towards her, trying to look confident, slightly bored.

“Okay,” he said, “let’s see your posture.”

She bit down on her lower lip to stop the saucy smile that threatened to take over. He found himself smiling back.

“My posture?” she said, and he nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s all about the posture, Lisbon. Come here.”

She did and leaned over the table, trying to mimic his former position. Which meant she wriggled her delectable little backside at him pretty much.

Okay, that was too much. Patrick Jane was done waiting. Unfortunately, that meant Teresa Lisbon wouldn’t learn how to play pool tonight, because he would be far to busy shooting other things to teach her.

He leaned over her, covering her tiny body with his much larger frame, making sure his enormous erection rubbed against her buttocks.

“Almost,” he whispered in her ear, “that’s…close…”

He almost felt her melt in the cage of his arms, and it was a heady, erotic feeling he couldn’t have resisted to save his life. She pushed her little ass against his raging hard-on, and he groaned to show her he was absolutely game tonight.

She dropped the queue when he let his hand slide around her body to the fly of her jeans, splaying her fingers over his, not sure if she should stop or encourage him. He wasn’t to be deterred tonight, and swiftly opened her buttons until he could slide his hand down the front of her panties, meeting heat and wetness.

He felt the last of her resistance fade away and wanted so much to reassure her, tell her how much she meant to him, that he would never allow someone or something to intrude, that he would keep her. No matter how mischievous and irreverent he often was, he never fooled around with love and he wouldn’t this time.

He wanted her so much, all of her.

But this was not a time for words, and she was still grinding against him, making his physical reactions an even more urgent matter.

He slid the jeans down her legs, revealing red, silky panties.

He smiled.

“I knew you would let me see them eventually.” He groaned while she kicked off her shoes.

He adoringly kissed the back of her thighs when he went down on his knees to rid her of her pants and underwear.

Knowing she felt at a disadvantage now he made quick work of his own clothes, undressing with swift, fluid motions, not stopping before he was completely, gloriously naked. She was still facing away from him, both arms braced against the pool table, and it would have been so easy to just push into her, lose himself inside her liquid warmth.

He would have come in two seconds flat, maybe pushing in would already be enough. Not what he wanted from their first time together.

He reached between her legs and gently probed with his fingers, making her moan and squirm in his arms. She was exactly as tight as she looked from the outside, which would make for some interesting sensations when he tried to push inside this molten haven. He just hoped she liked her intimate encounters a little on the intense side, because that was what she would get from now on… for the rest of her life. He would rather chew off his own arm than share her.

He pulled his fingers back, reveling in the bereft little sound she made, and pulled her shirt over her head, one hand already wandering to the clasp of her bra, opening it with nimble fingers.

They were both naked now and the contact of skin on skin felt so wonderful he purred like a big cat.

He turned her in his arms and placed his hands on her waist, lifting her onto the edge of the pool table. He put his hand against her flat stomach and pushed her back, encouraging her to stretch out on the green felt.

He growled. She was so beautiful, the perfect handful of her breasts, the utter slimness of her waist, her muscular, shapely legs, the dark cloud of her silky hair fanned out around her head.

He noticed that her usually pale skin had taken on a slightly golden hue lately, which looked especially sexy with her sweet little freckles.

“Whoa,” he chuckled, “strictly indoor-oriented agent Lisbon has gotten herself a tan- how come?”

“I started masturbating on the roof lately.” She shrugged.

“You started WHAT?” he asked incredulously, his voice deep and hoarse with arousal all of a sudden.

“The abandoned roof garden,” she drawled, moving her hips in a very, very seductive way, “on the far end of headquarters- the one you can’t view from any point of the building, because it has a solid, overgrown fence about ten feet high? I like to get naked there and grant me some release in the middle of a boring work day.”

He swallowed, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“You masturbate on the rooftop?” he croaked, “Why didn’t I get that? Usually, I can read you like a book!”

She raised her upper body, supporting herself on her elbows. Her face was sexy and tender at the same time, her eyes deep and mysterious. In this moment, she was so attractive to him he almost rammed inside her in one single, hard stroke, giving up all the teasing, the erotic games, the dirty talk. He wanted her like mad, his whole groin burning with desire. His huge erection throbbed in front of him, so hard he had to touch it, lazily wrapping his hand around it, giving it a few soft strokes. Not enough to make him come immediately, just the right amount to grant him some physical contact on the spot where it was needed most.

“Maybe because you weren’t around all that much lately?” she whispered, and he clearly heard the slight hurt, the longing in her voice.

It was true- he had pulled back after Las Vegas, not trusting himself to do the right thing, his feelings for her so urgent and raw he could hardly be accountable for his actions. He had felt needy and vulnerable whenever he came close to her, wanting to curl up against her like a love-starved little kitten.

He pumped his cock some more, and almost lost it when he saw her slowly lick her lips.

“What are you thinking about when you make yourself come?” he breathed.

“I imagine you standing above me,” she said, “your legs spread wide, your hands pumping your cock until you spray your seed all over me…” he groaned helplessly, “…then you crawl over my body and shove your length into my mouth, making me drink the last spurts, my tongue eagerly lapping up whatever you give me…” his aroused sounds were wild, needy whimpers now,”… but don’t worry, I’ll get you hard again fast, ready to stuff me so full of cock I can taste you on my…”

“God, woman, STOP!” he growled, noticing that his movements had become a lot faster, his arousal close to boiling point already.

“Oh no, Jane,” she said, smiling softly, “you don’t get to do that without me.”

She slid from the pool table in a single, fluid movement until she squatted in front of him. He shuddered when she grabbed his girth, adoringly caressing it with her fingertips.

He smiled shakily.

“You’re a pretty cock-hungry little girl, aren’t you, agent Lisbon?”

“Oh, I sure love your cock,” she said, leaning down to press a tiny kiss on his shaft that made him writhe, ”it’s perfect- huge and hot and hard- and slightly curved, to hit all the right spots. So can’t wait to have this thing inside me, believe me. But first, we have to take some of the urgency away, don’t we?”

She put his throbbing rod between her breasts, pressing the creamy mounds together until they gave him a fair amount of friction. His knees buckled helplessly.

“Damn, Lisbon…” he groaned as he started to thrust carefully, rubbing his aching length against her perfect breasts.

She bowed her head and sucked on the tip of his cock, making slurping sounds that simply drove him insane.

“I warn you, little one,” he whispered breathlessly, “if I come like this, I’m gonna shoot my load all over you.”

“Yessss,” she hissed, pressing down on the sides of her breasts to squeeze his shaft even tighter, “get me all messy, Patrick Jane.”

He groaned so loud the walls seemed to vibrate.

“Everything my lady wants,” he growled and grabbed her slim shoulders, slowly thrusting his length between those delicious breasts of hers.

She continued to lick over his tip, pushing her tongue into the little slit on top, increasing the ache coursing through his system until he felt almost brain dead with pleasure, his whole body twitching and shaking under her relentless ministrations. The friction on his burning shaft was exquisite, and her hungry slurping on his glans didn’t make the sensations easier to bear.

“Lisbon,” he moaned, “I swear I’ll erupt like a freaking…”

“Promises, promises,” she crooned, her lips whispering against his most sensitive spot, and he came like a volcano.

Lisbon threw her head back, making tiny sounds of delight while he spattered her skin with his seed. She licked up any trace of liquid that came close to her lips, and he shuddered just from watching her, the unbelievably hot sight prolonging the heaves of his orgasm. He finally bowed down and cleaned her face with his own tongue, lapping at his own semen, almost surprised that it didn’t taste revolting as he had thought- it was salty-sweet, thick and syrupy, but in no way disgusting.

She moaned heavily when he licked over her skin, he felt her arousal in every cell, deep down to her core.

He was panting when he came down from his nerve-wrecking climax, and she kissed him softly, licking his juices from his tongue while her fingers slid through the spattering of seed he had left on her breasts and throat, playing with it.

It was strangely sexy to watch a woman who obviously enjoyed his offerings that much, and Jane felt how he got hard again just looking at her, playing like a greedy little kitten.

“You’re dangerous, woman,” he growled and leaned down to kiss her neck, rubbing his warm tongue against her skin, salty from his semen.  
When he put his hands under her arms and lifted her back onto the pool table, she made a bereft little sound.

He chuckled.

“You think the fun is over? You have NO idea, little one. I think it’s my turn to drive you nuts now, isn’t it?”

He put his flat hand against her taut stomach and made her recline until her back rested on the dark green felt of the tabletop.

“Won’t your friend complain when you fuck me on his pool table?” she whispered.

His sweet superior saying the f-word made him shiver again.

“I won’t tell him.” He growled.

He pulled her hips to the edge of the table until they rested on the elevated rim, the perfect height for his convenience. He grinned and gently massaged the places where the table’s rim dug into the soft flesh of her buttocks.

“Does that hurt?” he asked breathlessly, his length hardening by the second now. Seeing her like this, spread out for his taking after all the years he had pined for her, denied himself the pleasure of her touch because his guilt was paralyzing him, sent his body into overload, almost drove him insane.

“Not enough,” she whispered, “Jane, please…”

He wanted to say a million things, but words would have to wait until they got the need out of the way, found an outlet for this enormous lust they were sharing.

He bent down and kissed her flat stomach, swirling his tongue through her cute little belly button before he straightened and raised her legs until her knees almost touched her chest, holding her ankles together with one hand, opening her for his access.

He heard her breathing accelerate when he let his finger slide over her wet folds, tracing every crease before he pushed it inside her, making her buck beneath him. He wanted to drown in her liquid heat and leaned down with a groan to lick over her tempting sex, sampling her delicious taste with a thirst he hadn’t felt in years. 

Her moans spurred him on, and he pushed his tongue into her hot little void, slurping her perfectly sweet juices into his mouth until she pulled on his curls to make him stop.

He straightened, still holding her legs by the ankles, chuckling softly.  
“What’s with the hair-pulling, you little menace?”

“Please, Jane,” she begged, “I need something really MASSIVE inside me now.”

He eyed his erection, so hard it almost slapped his stomach, the tip oozing lots of pre-come. Silky skin so taut he ached all over.  
“I might be able to assist you.” He whispered and wrapped his free hand around his cock. He released her ankles and put her legs over his shoulders before he gently rubbed the tip of his shaft against her straining clit, again, again, making her squirm, beg, cry out…

“Are you sure the table isn’t hurting your sweet bu…”  
“Jane!” she yelled, “Stop talking and shove your damn…”  
“Okay, okay,” he said, laughing, feeling as free as he hadn’t in years.

His whole body screamed with bliss, nerve endings exploding under the onslaught of a lust he just couldn’t fathom.

He pushed into her tight core, giving her just the first few inches, his mouth falling open under the intensity of the sensations wrecking his body.

He breathlessly watched his enormous girth sliding into her tiny opening, his fingers spreading the soft, rosy flesh to get a better view. 

Her whole petite frame shuddered every time he went deeper, and he was still only halfway inside her.

“Lisbon,” he gasped, “look, please…”

He let her legs slide from his shoulders and put his hands on her waist, pulling her upright. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the gesture so sweet it made him sigh with delight, and looked down at the place they were joined, her breath catching in her throat.

He shoved his throbbing cock deeper, knowing it looked almost surreal, their sizes clearly mismatched.

“Deeper,” she groaned, “Jane, please, give me all of you…”

He grunted and pushed deeper, his shaft stretching her flesh until he was afraid he would tear her up, but she put both hands on his buttocks and tried to pull him into her, make him go deeper, and deeper.

Her tight walls resisted him, but she was so unbelievably wet he managed to slide into her, more, more, until he hit a spot that made her squirm, and his pubic hair finally mashed with hers.

“Heavens,” she moaned, “one inch more and you’d come out of my throat.”

He took desperate, heaving gulps of air while her sheath squeezed at his hard erection, making him jerk every time she moved. And she moved a lot, pushing her hips forward to increase the contact, get even closer to him. He unwrapped her arms from around his neck and pushed her back onto the table top, lifting her slim legs back over his shoulders.

He automatically slid deeper, and both of them groaned. He could feel himself nudging her cervix and wondered if that hurt, but one look into her face told him differently- her features were contorted with ecstasy, not with pain.

He’d never been inside a woman to the hilt, most couldn’t take him, so he had learned to hold back, even in his marriage he’d never overstepped a certain limit.

The sensations were entirely new for him, and he struggled to cope with the mind-blowing feelings being engulfed in her sheath tip to base evoked.

He thrust again, squarely hitting her cervix before he slid past it, now resting balls deep inside his tiny superior.

They both cried out, panting like mad and something inside Jane snapped that very moment.

He growled like a wild beast, the sound emanating from deep inside his chest, desire flooding his brain until nothing but want was left.

 

Xxxxxxxxxx

 

Lisbon heard him roar and her eyes snapped open, widening before her lips curled into a smile full of desire and anticipation. Jane wrapped his hands around her waist, angling her hips until not a whiff of air remained between them.

And then he started to thrust as if he meant it.

It was a good thing that he was holding her so tightly, because otherwise this first thrust would have propelled her over half the table.

Her mouth fell open from the sheer force of his strokes, and he didn’t stop there, pushing into her again and again, so deep and hard her whole body felt aflame in seconds.

Jane’s hips were muscular and strong, and he struck an unbelievably fast rhythm, battering her small body with the force of his strokes, making her scream every time he hit his goal deep inside her, driving home to the hilt.

He put both hands on her thighs, holding her even closer, digging into her soft flesh so hard he would leave fingerprints for sure, but still it wasn’t enough for her, her breathless moans begging for more, her body arching against him to get closer.

Her shoulder-blades rubbed against the rough felt on the tabletop with every hard thrust he gave her, and he didn’t stop, pounding into her over and over again, his cock so swollen she could almost feel his veins pulsating against her sensitive walls.

Her nerve endings blazed like sheer fire, her fingertips tingled with the almost shock-like sensations every stroke sent through her body, and when she came beneath him, his length thrusting into her contracting sheath, it was almost too much, the pleasure so acute her scratching fingers almost ripped the fabric from the table.

She came until her stomach hurt, but the explosive release felt healing, liberating, she felt soft and pliant when she tried to catch her breath.

The fast strokes of his cock inside her quickly brought her to a next orgasm, this one sensual, bone-deep, delirious. She desperately needed to touch him and reached down, dragging her fingernails over his chest and stomach, shivering when he growled again, deep and throaty like a panther about to attack.

He was so beautiful, his hair in wild disarray, skin gleaming with sweat, his eyes dark and intense, she couldn’t stop looking at him, her dreams and fantasies coming true in a giant explosion of sparks and shooting stars.

When he looked into her eyes, she saw him opening up completely, vulnerable and raw, holding nothing back from her. She had never seen him like this and felt a big lump in her throat, touched beyond words.

Damn, he was ramming her hard, she couldn’t simply brace herself against these thrusts, they went so deep into her core, piercing her body like an oversized lance. A lance almost as thick as her forearm. 

She helplessly surrendered to the orgasms he gave her, again and again, her muscles contracting until she thought she couldn’t come again, but he continued hammering into her and proved her wrong.

She felt it when he became rigid inside her, his cock lengthening, expanding even more, eyes widening in shock before his whole face relaxed, his frame shuddering in mind-blowing pleasure.

He shot his load with so much force that she felt him spurt deep inside her, long, sharp jets of warm seed, again, again, he groaned every time he released a new stream, filling her until she could feel the balmy texture of his semen on the insides of her thighs, flowing over from her crammed core. He was still thrusting erratically, unable to stop, shaking and trembling while he came and came, his hands urgent on her hips.

“Please, Teresa,” he growled, the depth of his hoarse voice making her quake with aftershocks, “take all of me. Please.”

A look into his eyes told her that he meant more than his seed. The light, the dark, the little boy, the obsessed hunter.

She angled her hips to receive his essence fully, accept all he had to gift, her eyes saying the rest.

When he had spent every drop inside of her, his silky juices dripping onto the floor from her legs and buttocks, he collapsed on top of her, and just when she thought that she would be dying for a kiss he raised his head, gently pressing his lips on hers before he pushed his tongue into her mouth, the kiss warm, wet, sated.

She made a tiny noise of disappointment when he pulled back and straightened, his cock sliding from her core, releasing a new gush of seed that seeped into the felt beneath her.

He crawled onto the table and carefully pulled her higher, until she was free of the edge pressing into her buttocks.

He curled up next to her, pulling her into his arms. She heard his heart hammering in his chest and found herself wishing they could just stay here, hidden from the world and the menace that waited for them outside the doors.

“Uhm, Jane?” she whispered eventually, “I think we thoroughly ruined this table. Won’t your friend be mad?”

“Are you kidding me?” he sighed, “We made some pretty fond memories for this table- it’s mine. I’ll make the owner an offer he can’t refuse.”

She smiled against his skin, unable to resist kissing, licking, teasing.  
He groaned.

“You are a naughty, naughty girl, agent Lisbon,” he breathed, “in fact, I don’t think you should expect any Christmas presents this year.”

She chuckled.

“I don’t care about stupid presents. Why don’t I simply tie a ribbon around your…”

“…see, that’s what I was talking about. Do you know what I would like at Christmas? A fireplace. I always loved a fire in the wintertime. Will you let me buy a place for us, with a huge fireplace? Like a love nest, for you and me? Pretty please?”

She looked at him. His eyes were warm and affectionate.

“I love you.” He whispered, and suddenly she realized that she’d known all along, that their secret had been no secret between the two of them, there eyes having said a hundred times what words couldn’t. 

“I love you, too,” she answered, and he words falling from her lips, finally, felt like a revelation, salvation, freeing her from all the years of repressed longing in a tiny instant. “but a fireplace won’t warm me as effectively as you will, Patrick Jane.”

“Don’t worry,” he cooed, showering her face and lips with lazy, satisfied kisses, “I’ll be there. And I’m offering more heat than you can handle, senior special agent Teresa Lisbon.”

She wrapped her hand around his shaft, hardening swiftly beneath her touch, his delighted moan warming her heart as much as her body.

“We’ll see about that.” She whispered and hungrily accepted his lips on hers.

“By the way,” he whispered into her mouth, “since it’s still summer, what if we enact your roof garden fantasy next, huh?”

She groaned.

“Whatever you dish up, Jane- I’m game.”

“Careful,” he said, “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

Teresa Lisbon just groaned again and delved into his kiss.

The End


End file.
